


Another Tale of the American Dream

by wingsyouburn



Category: Lost
Genre: DHARMA Initiative, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Mid-Canon, Reading, Stranded in the 1970s, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 07:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsyouburn/pseuds/wingsyouburn
Summary: This was a favorite game of theirs, late at night when no one else from the Dharma camp was awake to listen in. No need to put up a front, no need to pretend to be something he wasn’t - here, he was just James, and she was just Juliet, and nothing came between them anymore.





	Another Tale of the American Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isquinnabel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isquinnabel/gifts).



> For ~isquinnabel. I haven't written for Lost in ages, but Juliet/Sawyer was one of my favorite ships. The part that struck me the most in your request was the idea of them bonding over a shared love of books. I hope you enjoy your treat! <3

“What do you miss the most?”

Juliet’s voice was quiet in the darkness of their shared bedroom. This was a favorite game of theirs, late at night when no one else from the Dharma camp was awake to listen in. No need to put up a front, no need to pretend to be something he wasn’t - here, he was just James, and she was just Juliet, and nothing came between them anymore. 

At one point, Sawyer slept on the couch in order to give her the privacy she asked for, but those days were past them now. In the sticky heat of the island, windows open to let a breeze pass through, all they needed was a light blanket and the warmth of each other. He never asked to become Jim LaFleur, to be in a plane crash, or to be sent back to the 19-fucking-70s. But here, right now, things weren’t so bad. A roof over his head and food on the table, which was more than Sawyer had in the past. 

And Juliet. Juliet, now, was worth everything. Sawyer may not have seen this relationship coming, but Mrs. Juliet LaFleur could be Mrs. Juliet Ford someday if he played his cards right. 

So he tucked her further into his body, nuzzling against her neck and leaving teasing kisses there. Juliet arched into him; he knew what his girl liked. “Books,” he murmured into her skin.

“Books,” she repeated. “You mean you haven’t finished devouring Dharma’s library yet?”

“It’s 1976, remember? I’m talking about the books that haven’t come out yet.” One of their shared passions was reading. Most people heard his accent and assumed Sawyer couldn’t be well read, but he would give any book a fighting chance. Since being stranded on this hellhole of an island, it wasn’t like he got much of a selection for pleasure reading unless he wanted to put himself to sleep with the Dharma Initiative’s many manuals. Here, though, they did have a meager collection, but mostly things he’d already read or that others were currently reading before him. 

She reached back behind her, caressing his hip with one hand. It didn’t nothing to cool the desire running through him, but Juliet knew that too. “Then which books in particular are you missing tonight?” 

Sawyer focused on the little sighs Juliet made as he dragged his teeth lightly over her shoulder. “Stephen King. Michael Crichton. Shit, I’ll even take a Dan Brown or James Patterson book if it means I can get some variety in this joint. Classics are all well and good, but damn.”

Juliet laughed. “I did not peg you as the sort to want to read Dan Brown. Or Stephen King. Popular fiction in general, anyway.”

“King’s best works aren’t even out yet,” Sawyer grumbled, though he was smiling too. “No _IT_ , no _The Stand_ , no _The Shining_ , none of _The Dark Tower_ either. Somewhere across the globe he’s just starting to hit his stride and we’re gonna miss it all because we’re stuck here.” Along with a million other things, but right now his company wasn't so bad. It was better than great, actually. 

“You are such a fanboy.”

“I just like good books, okay?”

“I think it’s adorable.” 

Sawyer shifted his hips and rolled Juliet underneath him, hair falling into his eyes, so he could see the lazy smile that lit up her face. “You’re the adorable one.” He leaned down for a kiss, drawing it out, nibbling on her lower lip until he pulled back. “Your turn. Books you miss the most.”

She pretended to think about it for a moment, humming under her breath. “Romance novels.”

“What, the 70s doesn’t have enough trashy romance for you?”

Juliet poked him in the shoulder. “You’re the one who asked, and now you have an honest answer.” 

“Fuck, I love you, Blondie.”

“Love you too, James.”

Coming from her, his full name, his actual name, sounded like a prayer after pretending to be someone else for so long. Sawyer was one mask he wore around the other passengers in the crash; Jim LaFleur was created just for the Dharma folks. But only Juliet got to see him as James. It was a gift he wasn’t going to waste, and as he deepened their kisses until they were both out of breath, he couldn’t help but think that luck always appeared to him in the strangest of ways. And he would ride this wave wherever it took him, as long as Juliet was still by his side.

***

Two nights later, Sawyer returned to their home well after midnight from his security detail, moving quietly as not to wake Juliet. She was curled up in bed, hair spread out over the pillow, breathing deeply. On his side of the bed was a note written on a plain paper package. He leaned against the bedroom window to read by moonlight, glasses perched on the end of his nose. 

> _James -_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Fresh off the submarine for you. I know it’s probably something you’ve already read, but I thought you would like the reminder of home._
> 
> _Love you - J._

Inside was a brand new copy of Stephen King’s _Carrie,_ the cover pristine and the spine void of the lines that marked years of use. Sawyer flipped the pages, taking in that new book smell, and grinned. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured to the sleeping woman, leaning in to brush the softest kiss over her cheek. 

Juliet never stirred, and only then did he dare to turn on the light on his nightstand. Shucking out of his Dharma jumpsuit, he climbed into bed, propped up his pillows, and started to read. 

And tomorrow, he would return the favor by surprising her with every romance novel he could get his hands on.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Dear Maria, Count Me In" by All Time Low.


End file.
